The Sky Is Falling

The Sky Is Falling Page 13

RACHELSTEVENS WAS at Miami International Airport to meet Jeff when his plane arrived.

My God, she's so beautiful, Jeff thought. I can't believe she's sick.

Rachel threw her arms around him. "Oh, Jeff! Thank you for coming."

"You look amazing," Jeff assured her. They walked toward a waiting limousine.

"All this will turn out to be nothing. You'll see."

"Of course."

On the drive home, Rachel asked, "How is Dana?"

He hesitated. With Rachel so ill, he didn't want to parade his own happiness. "She's fine."

"You're lucky to have her. Did you know I'm scheduled to do a shoot in Aruba next week?"

"Aruba?"

"Yes." She went on, "Do you know why I accepted that job? Because we honeymooned there. What was the name of the hotel we stayed at?"

"The Oranjestad."

"It was beautiful, wasn't it? And what was the name of that mountain we climbed?"

"The Hooiberg."

Rachel smiled and said softly, "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"People don't usually forget their honeymoon, Rachel."

She put her hand on Jeff's arm. "It was heaven, wasn't it? I've never seen such incredible white beaches."

Jeff smiled. "And you were afraid to get a tan. You wrapped yourself up like a mummy."

There was a moment of silence. "That's one of my deepest regrets, Jeff."

He looked at her, not understanding. "What?"

"Our not having a - never mind." She looked at him and said quietly, "I loved being with you in Aruba."

Jeff said evasively, "It's a great place. Fishing, windsurfing, snorkeling, tennis, golf..."

"And we didn't have time for any of them, did we?"

Jeff laughed. "No."

"I'm having a mammogram in the morning. I don't want to be alone when they do it. Will you come with me?"

"Of course, Rachel."

When they arrived at Rachel's home, Jeff carried his bags into the spacious living room and looked around. "Nice. Very nice."

She put her arms around him. "Thanks, Jeff."

He could feel her trembling.

The mammogram took place at Tower Imaging in downtown Miami. Jeff stayed in the waiting area while a nurse took Rachel to a room to change into a hospital gown and then escorted her to an examination room for X rays.

"This will take about fifteen minutes, Miss Stevens. Are you ready?"

"Yes. How soon can I get the results?"

"That will have to come from your oncologist. He should have them tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

The oncologist's name was Scott Young. Jeff and Rachel walked into his office and sat down.

The doctor looked at Rachel a moment and said, "I'm sorry to say I have bad news for you, Miss Stevens."

Rachel gripped Jeff's hand. "Oh?"

"The results of your biopsy and mammogram show that you have an invasive carcinoma."

Rachel's face turned white. "What - what does that mean?"

"I'm afraid it means you need a mastectomy."

"No!" It came out instinctively. "You can't - I mean, there must be some other way."

"I'm afraid," Dr. Young said gently, "it's gone too far."

Rachel was silent for a moment. "I can't do it right away. You see, I'm scheduled to do a photographic shoot in Aruba next week. I can do it after that."

Jeff was studying the worried expression on the doctor's face. "When would you suggest she have it, Dr. Young?"

He turned to Jeff. "As soon as possible."

Jeff looked at Rachel. She was trying hard not to cry. When she spoke, her voice was trembling. "I'd like a second opinion."

"Of course."

Dr. Aaron Cameron said, "I'm afraid I've come to the same conclusion as Dr. Young. I'd recommend a mastectomy."

Rachel tried to keep her voice level. "Thank you, Doctor." She took Jeff's hand and squeezed it. "I guess that's it, isn't it?"

Dr. Young was waiting for them.

"It looks like you were right," Rachel said. "I just can't - " There was a long, sad silence. Finally Rachel whispered, "All right. If you're sure it's - it's necessary."

"We'll make you as comfortable as possible," Dr. Young said. "Before I operate, I'll bring in a plastic surgeon to discuss the reconstruction of your breast with you. We can do miracles today."

Jeff put his arms around her as Rachel burst into tears.

There were no direct flights from Washington, D. C., to Aspen. Dana boarded a Delta Airlines flight to Denver, where she changed to a United Express plane. Later, she had no memory of the journey. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Rachel and the torment she must be going through. I'm glad that Jeff will be there to make it easier for her. And Dana was worried about Kemal. What if Mrs. Daley quits before I come back? I have  -

The flight attendant's voice came over the loudspeaker. "We will be landing in Aspen in just a few minutes. Please see that your seat belt is fastened and return your seat back to the upright position."

Dana began to concentrate on what lay ahead of her.

Elliot Cromwell walked into Matt Baker's office.

"I understand Dana's not doing the broadcasts tonight."

"That's right. She's in Aspen."

"Following up on her Taylor Winthrop theory?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to keep me informed."

"Right." Matt watched Cromwell leave and thought, He's really taken an interest in Dana.

When Dana disembarked, she headed for the car-rental counter. Inside the terminal, Dr. Carl Ramsey was saying to the clerk behind the counter, "But I reserved a car a week ago."

The clerk said apologetically, "I know, Dr. Ramsey, but I'm afraid there's been a mix-up. We don't have a single car available. There's an airport bus outside, or I can call a taxi for - "

"Never mind," the doctor said, and stormed out.

Dana entered the airport lobby and walked up to the rental desk. "I have a reservation," she said. "Dana Evans."

The clerk smiled. "Yes, Miss Evans. We've been expecting you." He gave her a form to sign and handed her some keys. "It's a white Lexus in parking space one."

"Thank you. Can you tell me how to get to the Little Nell Hotel?"

"You can't miss it. It's right in the middle of town. Six-seventy-five East Durant Avenue. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"Thank you," Dana said.

The clerk watched her walk out the door. What the hell is going on? he wondered.

The Little Nell Hotel was built in an elegant chalet style, nestled at the base of the picturesque Aspen mountains. The lobby had a floor-to-ceiling fireplace with a cheery fire constantly burning in the winter, and large windows with views of the snowcapped Rockies. Guests in ski clothes were sitting around on couches and oversize chairs, relaxing. Dana looked around and thought, Jeff would love this. Maybe we'll come up here...

When Dana had finished signing in, she said to the clerk, "Do you happen to know where the Taylor Winthrop home is?"

He looked at her strangely. "The Taylor Winthrop home? It's not there anymore. It burned to the ground."

Dana said, "I know. I just wanted to see - "

"There's nothing up there now but a lot of ashes, but if you want to see it, you go out east to Conundrum Creek Valley. That's about six miles from here."

"Thank you," Dana said. "Would you have my bags taken to my room, please?"

"Certainly, Miss Evans."

Dana headed back to the car.

The site of the Taylor Winthrop home in Conundrum Creek Valley was surrounded by National Forest lands. The house had been a one-story dwelling made of native stone and redwood, set in a lovely, secluded location with a large beaver pond and a creek running through the property. The view was spectacular. And in the midst of all that beauty, like an obscene scar, were the burned-out remnants of the house in which two people had died.

Dana strolled around the grounds, visualizing what had once been there. It had obviously been a very large one-story house. There must have been many doors and windows at ground level.

And yet the Winthrops had not been able to escape through any of them. I think I'd better visit the fire department.

As Dana walked into the fire station, a man approached her. He was in his thirties, tall, tan, and athletic looking. He probably lives on the ski slopes, Dana thought.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Dana said, "I read about the Taylor Winthrop house burning down and I was curious about it."

"Yeah. That was a year ago. Probably the worst thing that ever happened in this town."

"What time of day did it happen?"

If he thought her question odd, he gave no sign. "It was the middle of the night. We got the call at threeA. M. Our trucks were out there by three-fifteen, but it was too late. The house was burning like a torch. We didn't know anybody was inside until later when we put down the fire and found the two bodies. That was a heartbreaking moment, let me tell you."

"Do you have any idea what started the fire?"

He nodded. "Oh, yeah. It was an electrical problem."

"What kind of electrical problem?"

"We don't know exactly, but the day before the fire, someone called an electrician to the house to fix it."

"But you don't know what the problem was?"

"I think there was something wrong with the fire alarm system."

Dana tried to sound casual. "The electrician who went out to fix it - would you happen to have his name?"

"No. I guess the police would have it."

"Thanks."

He looked at Dana curiously. "Why are you so interested in this?"

Dana said earnestly, "I'm writing an article about ski-resort fires around the country."

The Aspen police station was a redbrick one-story building, half a dozen blocks from Dana's hotel.

The officer at his desk looked up and exclaimed, "You're Dana Evans, the TV lady?"

"Yes."

"I'm Captain Turner. What can I do for you, Miss Evans?"

"I'm curious about the fire that killed Taylor Winthrop and his wife."

"My God, what a tragedy that was. The folks here are still in shock."

"I can understand that."

"Yep. Too bad they weren't able to save them."

"I understand the fire started from some kind of electrical problem?"

"That's right."

"Could it have been arson?"

Captain Turner frowned. "Arson? No, no. It was electrical failure."

"I'd like to talk to the electrician who went out there the day before the fire. Do you have his name?"

"I'm sure it's here in our files. Want me to check it out?"

"I'd appreciate it."

Captain Turner picked up the phone and spoke into it briefly, then turned back to Dana. "First time in Aspen?"

"Yes."

"Great place. Do you ski?"

"No."But Jeff does. When we come up here...

A clerk walked up and handed Captain Turner a sheet of paper. He passed it on to Dana. It read:Al Larson Electrical Company, Bill Kelly.

"They're just down the street."

"Thank you so much, Captain Turner."

"My pleasure."

As Dana left the building, a man across the street turned away and spoke into a cell phone.

The Al Larson Electrical Company was in a small gray cement building. A clone of the man at the fire department, tanned and athletic looking, was seated at a desk. He stood up as Dana came in. "Morning."

"Morning," Dana said. "I'd like to talk to Bill Kelly."

The man grunted. "So would I."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Kelly. He disappeared almost a year ago."

"Disappeared?"

"Yeah, just left. Didn't say a word. Didn't even stop to pick up his pay."

Dana said slowly, "Do you remember exactly when that was?"

"Sure do. It was the morning of that fire. The big one. You know, the one the Winthrops died in."

Dana felt a chill. "I see. And you have no idea where Mr. Kelly is?"

"Nope. Like I said, he just disappeared."

The remote island at the tip of South America had been buzzing all morning with the arrival of jet planes. Now it was time for the meeting, and the twenty-odd participants were seated in a guarded, newly built structure that was scheduled to be demolished as soon as the meeting was over. The speaker stepped to the front of the room.

"Welcome. I am happy to see many familiar faces here and some new friends. Before we begin our business, some of you are concerned about a problem that has arisen. A traitor is among us, threatening to expose us. We do not know who it is yet. But I assure you that he will be caught quickly, and that he will suffer the fate of all traitors. Nothing and no one can stand in our way."

There were murmurs of surprise from the crowd.

"Now. Let us begin our silent bid. There are sixteen packages today. Let's start with two billion. Do I have the first bid? Yes. Two billion dollars. Do I have three?"